Baby Bundt Cake Confusion (Murder in the Mix Book 31)

know what to do or think. None of this feels real. Tell me it’s all a bad dream. Tell me I didn’t just lose my husband.”
“I’m sorry.” Noah offers his old friend a mournful smile. “Let me take you home tonight. I’ll arrange for a deputy to come back and pick up your vehicle in the morning.”
“Okay.” She holds herself tightly as she gives my torso an apprehensive look. “I’m sorry, Lottie. I’m sorry you and Everett got dragged into this. I’m so very sorry.”
“Hey”—I reach over and give her arm a quick rub while holding my enormous belly with my other hand—“it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. And neither did Everett. Whoever did this is going to be arrested sooner than later. Just between us, the sheriff’s department isn’t the only one on this case. Noah, Everett, and I will all put our heads together to nail whoever did this to the wall, and fast.”
“She’s right.” Noah gives me a wry look. Ivy calls him over and he excuses himself a moment.
“Ariella?” I look to the poor woman with grief in my heart. “What do you think Owen and Jasmine were doing out there?”
Her mouth strays open. “Owen had left my side. I don’t know what he was doing, but Jasmine said she was coming out to have a smoke.”
Noah comes back. “Ariella, why don’t you wait right here. I’m going to walk Lottie over to the refreshment table where her employee is stationed.”
Noah does just that and we find Lily already closing up shop and collecting the cutlery that we bring out to events like this back into the bin along with the rest of our things.
“I can’t believe this, Lottie.” Lily shakes her head. “But I should have expected it. And don’t worry. I’ll get straight to ordering extra supplies so we can beef up production of these lemon Bundt cakes. I don’t know how you seem to finagle your sweet treats into just about every homicide in Vermont, but I have to give it to you—you’re a marketing wonder.”
It’s true. Every last homicide I’ve somehow stumbled into—well, let’s just say one of my desserts has been front and center as well. And as fate and the morbid fascination of the public would have it, there always seems to be an uptick in demand when it comes to the infamous treat at hand.
When my mother owned the Honey Hollow B&B, she ran the Haunted Honey Hollow B&B tours out of it at eighty dollars a head, and once she was through with them she sent them to my bakery for what she dubbed as The Last Thing They Ate Tour. She’s still running her haunted tours, albeit all the proceeds go to Cormack and Cressida now. But on the bright side, she’s still sending the tourists my way afterwards, so there’s that.
Noah takes off to take Ariella home, and I’m about to get straight to the task of helping Lily clean up when my belly decides to harden into a bowling ball. I drop the stack of forks in my hand and grip my stomach as my eyes squeeze shut.
“Whoa,” a female voice pipes up from my right and I open my eyes to see Serena standing there looking at me with a touch of wonder. “Hey? Are you having a contraction?”
“No way,” I tell her. “It’s nothing. I’m just practicing for the real deal.”
“When is your next doctor’s appointment?” She squints over at me as if she didn’t believe a word I just said.
“In a week. Dr. Barnette says she wants to start seeing me weekly up until the big day. So there’s nothing to worry about on my end.”
“Have you packed your bag for the hospital?”
A tiny spike of terror strikes me. “I’ve been meaning to. I mean, obviously, everyone keeps telling me to do it.” Specifically my best friend Keelie and my sister Lainey, both of whom just had babies last summer. “But, to be honest, I’m half-afraid that will send out some signal to the universe that I’m ready to have the baby. And I’m not ready to have the baby.”
“Yes, you are, Lottie.” Serena shakes her head at me. “Look, you can deny that this baby is coming all you want, but in less than a month you’re going to have an infant on your hands whether the nursery is painted, there’s a crib set up, or even if your bag is packed for the maternity ward. You have toured the maternity ward, right?”
“Toured it?” I inch back in horror. “Why would I do that?”
“So you know what to expect. You don’t want to be caught off guard, do you?” She glances to the ceiling. “Look, I was supposed to run a tour with the birthing class we just finished up, but things got wild toward the end and we never got around to it. I’ll put your name in with the head nurse and give you clearance to take a tour on your own. Since you can’t be trusted to do it…” She waves behind me, and soon Everett and Alex have joined us. “Everett, I’m arranging for a tour of the maternity ward for you, Noah, and Lottie. I’ll get the details to you soon. Make sure she’s there.”
“I will,” he says as his lips flicker just this side of a smile. “Thank you. We appreciate that.”
“Speak for yourself,” I mutter.
Alex leans in. “Don’t worry, Lottie. Both of my brothers are going to be there for you.” He offers Everett a mock sock on the arm. “And I do consider you my brother. I’m rooting for you, Everett. Noah told me all about the sleepwalking defense. I’m sure it’ll work out for you.”
It’s true. Noah remembered that Everett had a well-documented case of sleepwalking. And Everett’s acting attorney, Fiona Dagmeyer, one of his old girlfriends who has been thoroughly Essexed, agreed that it might work. I guess we’ll find out next month when the trial gets underway.
Alex and Serena